Tokens of Affection
by Natsudori Lina
Summary: Drabbles for Usako Mamoru's 100 themes
1. Theme 15 Mistake

Decided to start drabbling again this summer, so for the most part, I'm gonna be looking at Usako_mamoru's 100 themes.

Except for when a new anniversary challenge pops up, of course...

**Theme 15- Mistake**

**by Natsudori Lina**

There was movement in Mamoru's red Coupe. Moisture lightly coated the windows and, from the outside, Usagi stared, transfixed, at the bare female back that she could just make out. The girl inside had perfect shoulder blades, beautifully sculpted arms, and a mane of long blonde hair. The early morning's orange glow crept into the parking structure and softly lit her tan.

Usagi felt her anger rising in time with the girl's rhythm.

Sick. That's why Motoki had said Mamoru wasn't at the arcade yesterday. He was _"sick." _ She figured she'd be nice for a change because God only knew that if the Baka wasn't out being his usual, overachieving self, then he must really be feeling _terrible. _So she'd dragged _her _butt out of bed _two hours early _to come over with some of Mako-chan's soup and (though the thought made her want to vomit herself) clear away any sick mess he might have made.

_Sick._ And before she quite knew what she was doing, Usagi tore open the door and tossed the chicken noodle over the strange girl's back.

"I hope you enjoy the soup, you hentai!"

She turned to storm away and crashed into a solid chest, clad in a simple white T-shirt. Absent hands steadied her shoulders and she looked up to see Mamoru staring transfixed and horrified at his car. His nose was red, his eyes were slightly watery, and his face was pale. If the green tint of his cheeks was any indicator, Usagi thought he might vomit.

"Dat," he said slowly between a stuffed nose, "is de last tibe I let Minako overhear where I keep by spare key."


	2. Theme 1 Chocolate

**Theme 1- Chocolate**

**by Natsudori Lina**

It was the best thing she'd ever tasted.

Usagi sighed happily as she scraped the rich butterscotch topping off the top of her chocolate cake. 'Nii-san hadn't wanted to tell her what the new cake he was adding to the menu was called. Unable to meet her eyes, he told her that it wasn't appropriate yet, he had to make sure they were actually adding it before he could bring himself to tell his imouto, but _really_, she thought through a haze of satisfaction, he'd be crazy not to put it on the menu. It was delicious, like she was biting into ecstacy, sampling bliss, letting drops of Heaven dance on her tongue.

Mamoru slid into the booth across from her, running an agitated hand through his hair. "God, it's crowded in here today," he said, casting a disgruntled look at the crowd of newcomers mobbing the counter. "I could barely get through the door."

Usagi 'hmm'ed in acknowledgement. "Really? I hadn't noticed." She'd been encased in a delightful sugar coma, oblivious to the world surrounding her, but gradually the sound of the crowd intruded upon her awareness. She frowned, gaze flicking over to them, and took another bite. _Mmmm._ The haze of pleasure took over her once more and she relaxed in her seat, limbs languid. Not even the Baka would irritate her as long as she had this cake.

"What is tha- _Oh." _Mamoru chuckled. "So _that's _what all the fuss is about. Is he _giving _that away?"

"Mmhmm." Usagi dragged her fork through the frosting.

"It's great." Mamoru agreed with her hum of satisfaction. "But I don't imagine it could really live up to its name, do you?"

"Dunno," she said. She picked up a stray crumb on her plate and touched it to her tongue. The flavor flooded her senses and she closed her eyes. "Motoki-'nii-san wouldn't tell me what it was called."

"Yeah, that would be probably be awkward for him." Mamoru looked at her contemplatively and leaned across the table. "If you do me a favor, Odango, I might be persuaded to tell you what it's called." Mamoru's voice was low and strangely intimate.

She looked at him, gaze measuring, finger still to her lips. If she knew what it was called, she could have Mako-chan bake it for her whenever she wanted. And how bad could the favor he wanted be? She pushed her plate aside and leaned towards him, matching his distance cross the table. "Ok. What do you want?"

His gaze flicked down and he tilted his head, eyes closing as he bridged the gap between their mouths. Usagi jumped minutely, startled, and his hand came up to caress her cheek. His thumb traced the outline of her face and she closed her eyes. Sounds outside of them didn't exist. The murmur of the crowd disappeared as Mamoru moved his lips against hers. Her heart pounded in her ears and she heard his erratic breathing. She tentatively slid her mouth down to suck on his bottom lip. Mamoru had a flavor all his own: dark chocolate with a coconut cream filling and caramel sauce and a red velvet topping and musk and something rich she couldn't name and-

It was the best thing she'd ever tasted.

He pulled away and her eyes slid open to lock on his, which were staring at her intently. "Better than sex."

She blinked. "I- wha- _hentai!" _Face burning,she pushed at his shoulders, sending his back to _whump _against the soft back of the booth.

He laughed, eyes still smoldering. "That's what the cake's called, Odango. Better than sex cake." He slung his jacket over one shoulder. "But if sex would be anywhere near to that kiss, then-" he whistled lowly and slid from the booth. "The cake couldn't even come close." Usagi's eyes followed him as he sauntered from the Arcade.

If that had just been a kiss... Usagi tried another bite of the cake. Nope. Nowhere near it. Her mouth firmed in determination and she hollered as she got up from her booth and pushed her way to the front of the counter. "Motoki-'nii-san! I gotta talk to you about this cake! The name isn't right, it's not right _at all!"_


	3. Theme 2 Mask

Don't blink.

Your fingers trace the edge of his mask. If you blink, he will swirl his cape, flee the scene, and you will never get this chance again. He's close. Closer than he's ever been before after rescuing you. Close enough that you can feel his breath wafting over you, smell the unique combination of perspiration and flowers that is _him._ His hand settles between your breasts, hovering on the locket that makes up your glamour, your own mask.

You flinch.

He's gone.

And you shake your head, blaming yourself.

You never should have blinked.


	4. Theme 3 Hair

"This is stupid."

"You promised! Anything I wanted, you said it!"

"Usako, I hardly think-"

"You. Promised. And you never ever break a promise. Ever."

"I don't even know what a 'smolder' _is._"

"I brushed and brushed and brushed and _brushed _my hair, Mamo- _Flynn."_

"I'd noticed. You know I hardly think lengthening said hair to tie me to a chair is an appropriate use of the Luna Pen."

"Just say it."

"Fine. I didn't want to have to do this, but... you leave me no choice...

...Usako, Usako, let down your hair."


End file.
